The first time Sarah Mitchell touched my hand and described my childhood, I told the orderly to bring more sedatives. Not for her. For me.
It was March 1963. I was thirty-eight years old, senior researcher at McLean Hospital, and gradually going blind from a neurological condition that three different specialists could not diagnose. I had spent the previous six months studying a phenomenon I called osteographic resonance -- the hypothesis that certain individuals could perceive the history of objects and people through tactile...
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